


Fade Away

by thenocturnals



Series: Fade Away [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternative Universe - Modern Setting, Detective AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-11 03:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3312542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenocturnals/pseuds/thenocturnals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternative Universe. James is working undercover detective, and Sirius is his handler.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wonderful Beta by Sasha123cof, remaining faults are all mine.  
> \- This work is available to read in [Chinese](http://koki1105.lofter.com/post/1d005cc0_106b38b8), thanks to cass0701.

 

It happened in the middle of the night.

 

Sirius Black was sleeping, just like anybody else would be at that hour of the night. He woke up to several poundings on the door although he wasn't expecting anyone. He buried his head on the pillow and tried to ignore the uninvited guest, but it didn’t go away. Finally, he switched the light on and put on a night gown. With bare feet, he crossed the living room and went to get the door. He had decided that he would open it, curse whoever the hell it was, shut the door, and go back to sleep.

 

When he opened the door, James was standing right there. That was not beyond his expectation. However, when Sirius opened his mouth, James collapsed.

 

Well, that was unexpected.

 

Sirius stepped forward and held him tight so that he would not hit the floor. His hands were slippery. Sirius leaned him over and saw the blood all over his body. He mildly cursed and peeped outside. There wasn’t a pool of blood or any blood drops.

 

Sirius shut the door hard as he pulled James inside. He tucked his arms around him and dragged him to the bathroom. That left long traces on the floor but not that he cared. He took the shower curtain aside and put James into the tub. Sirius took his purse, beating, and opened the cabinet.

 

The gunshot wound was on the abdomen. Sirius hoped that James had not been shot by the thugs in the back alley. Those street guns were nasty to treat. He turned James around and looked over his back. Fortunately, the bullet passed through-and-through and there would be no internal bleeding.

 

But still, James was in critical situation. Sirius wiped the bleeding off and continued checking. There was a lot of blood on his trousers and shoes. Sirius loosened the belt and took off the trousers. Normally, neither of them would be reluctant to do that but this was not the time or the place. Some bruises and scratches were on both sides of legs but likewise, there were no visible wound. Sirius went back to torso and took off a soaked towel with bloods. The bleeding has stopped.

 

Sirius opened the first-aid box. He didn't have anything near the tranquilizer, but James was already in shock and it was better this way when he have to go in surgery without any anesthesia. Sirius washed his hands with soap twice and cauterized the wound.

 

It took him a whole hour. Sirius finished sewing and put the gauze on it. He washed the blood off his hands and took care of the other wounds. It was all done quite successfully, if he could call it a treatment. Sirius cleaned the blood off James, put a bathrobe on him and took him out to the bedroom. He laid him on the other side of the bed; adjusted the pillow a little bit, and covered him a blanket. Sirius stood there for awhile, listening to his breathing. It was shallow but steady. He went back to bathroom with door open.

 

The bathroom was a mess, filled with a smell of blood. Sirius threw the paper towels into the trashcan. He washed and put the surgical instruments on a clean towel to dry. He took James’ clothes and put them in a laundry bag. The shirt had to go, though. It didn't matter. James would nag him in the morning, but Sirius would have that rather than watching him-

 

Sirius poured bleach onto the tub and floor tiles with running water. Reddish liquids and the smell of chemicals gave him a headache, but there was no sign of any blood. Sirius washed his hands with soap one last time. No matter how he rubbed his hands with foam, the blood under his fingernails didn’t go away that easily. It was blood.

 

James' blood.

 

Sirius gave a serious thought about doing the same thing he did on the tiles he was stepping onto.

 

He decided not to. He dried his hands with newly taken towel; put the first-aid kit back into cabinet. He turned the light off. He knew without watching the clock that the sun will raise in a couple of hours and he will have to get up, wash, change, and go out to work. He went for the couch, not the bed. As he lay down, he listened carefully. Finally, everything was quiet.

 

 

*    *    *

 

 

The morning sunshine warmed the back of his neck. James opened his eyes. He got up too quickly to feel the sharp pain on his left side. He leaned his back slowly to the wall. He realized that he was in Sirius' flat, his master bedroom, and best of all, in his double-sized bed with his bathrobes on. James took a quick glance under the gown and was glad he was not wearing birthday suit and felt sorry for the gauze on his abdomen.

 

The memories of last night came back with the pain when he got out of the bed, the pieces of the memories, to be exact. He didn’t remember much. He remembered coming to the flat. He punched the pass codes, pounded the door but nobody answered. So he kept on pounding. After that, everything went black. But considering he is still here, alive, with both arms and legs, the door must have opened and Sirius must have come out. James giggled a little and the wound hurt again so he stopped. He went out to the kitchen where he heard the noises.

 

Sirius was sitting on the counter, sipping a cup of coffee. He had already got dressed and was ready for the work. He raised his eyes as James came in.

 

"You look nice." said Sirius. 

 

"Good morning to you too." said James, as he sat behind the counter. "Is there any coffee left in the pot?"

 

Sirius got up, poured a glass of orange juice and put it on the table with a plate of toast, bacon, and scrambled eggs. James dragged a chair for himself, sat, and started to eat. It was still warm and actually quite edible. He was half-finished with his breakfast when Sirius put the newspaper down. James looked at him with eggs full in his mouth.

 

"You came here, two in the morning, bleeding all over, and I had to treat a gunshot wound with disposable first aid-kit."

 "Oh, Yeah, thanks for that." 

 

"I think we don't have to compare who spent the worse night." said Sirius, drily. He raised his eyebrows. "Care to explain?"

 

James swallowed the eggs and said “Someone brought a gun to usual meeting. There was a shooting. I got shot."

 

"You should have called me."

 "It was a last minute call. Cell wasn't allowed. Even if I had one, the last thing I would do was making a phone call to you. I barely managed to come here after making sure there was no tail on me."

 "I could have arrested them in the act."

 "They would be released in an hour for the lack of evidence and we wouldn't catch ‘Voldemort’."

 "I could have taken you to the hospital.”

 "Then you would blow my cover. Will you stop with those ‘could have’s? We would be dead before even getting to the hospital. Why do you think I came here in the first place?"

 

"I don’t know. So I could watch you dying in the first row?" Sirius snapped.

 

Two of them went silent for a while, James just eating.

 

James knew what the other man was thinking but decided not to dare speak of it. Sirius wasn't a big fan of him with this undercover case. He never was. He was the one who most strongly opposed. The risk James was taking was the endless subject they kept on going on about. The Death Eaters were a relatively new organized family but their acts of crime were cruel and vicious. They didn’t stop for anything, murder to torture, bribe, you name it. The organization was tight and their head, so-called ‘Lord Voldemort’, was a criminal mastermind and he became an urban legend in short amount of time. The Yard tried to sweep them off the street but failed every time. This, James’ cover, was the first case that they actually had succeeded. It was dangerous; James would be dead if he made any mistakes. But James never regretted taking this one. This was what he did for living. It was his job.

 

He forked the bacon. He began to explain what the meeting was about, where it took place and the others and Sirius noted every single word.

 

James put the dish and fork to sink and headed to bathroom. He was dying to take a shower but settled with brushing his teeth with an extra toothbrush Sirius must have taken out for him, and washing his face.

 

When he came out to the living room, Sirius was already off to work. James found his jacket, trousers, belt, and a dress shirt hanging on the doorknob. It was clean and smelled fresh. James would never find out how Sirius got rid of the bloodstains and gun power off the clothes.

 

The shirt was unusually clean and soft for his taste. It was more like what Sirius would wear. James was half-expecting what would have happened to his shirt and mourned over its tragic death. There was something inside his jacket. He took out a key. His name was carved on it. And there were pills in the orange bottle, saying taking them twice a day with his name on it. He threw the key in the air and took it with one hand. He opened the door and went out.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

A voice from overhead asked, "Do you want a refill?" The waiter was wearing black trousers, a white shirt and a name tag on his chest. Sirius nodded. He poured a fresh cup of coffee.

  
There was an old man two tables away from him reading a newspaper, and Sirius could see what was on the front page this morning. The big and bolded headline was similar to the one he read the other day, or maybe it was the same one. It was an article about the real estate tycoon charged with insider-trading who went missing before the trial. The reporter was so convinced he was guilty that he ran away to one of his beach house on Cayman Islands to avoid the sentence.

  
Sirius was reminded of a man lying on the fake bear-skin carpet. The victim's eyes were wide open and his head was half-smashed. Cause of death was one blunt force trauma to head. The weapon was crystal Obelisk on the black marble table beside him. That, however, was wiped clean so it was impossible to find any fingerprints or blood traces. It was a staged accident and very good one. The victim was on their suspects list for months and one of the very close lead to Voldemort.

  
“What’s with this rain today?”

  
Sirius gathered the thoughts as James slid into the other side of booth. Sirius looked outside the window. It was all wet and blurry; streets were hardly visible for hours of heavy rain. It hardly ever rained this much. He remembered hearing the multiple car accident on the London Boulevard. No casualties, just few injured, they were all carried to the nearest hospitals and stabilized. James took out paper napkins to wipe off his hands and face and threw them away. He grumbled a few words about the weather. Sirius told him the rain would not stop until tomorrow, but he doubt James listened.

  
"Didn’t you order anything?"

  
"I'm not here to eat."

  
"Well, I am."

 

James said, waving his hand to the server. He ordered a cup of coffee and a roast-beef sandwich. The server wrote down the order and went to the kitchen. The order was served soon after. James said thanks and smiled a little. Server smiled back to him and left, saying asking him if they need anything else. James grabbed his sandwich right away.

  
 "Wow," He muttered after one bite. “This is amazing. Why didn’t you bring me here before?" His voice was cheerful. James seemed to like the food here. Sirius stirred his coffee with spoon, just watching him eat.

  
"So,” said James after he devoured the plate without crumbs.

“What can I do for you today?"

  
Sirius drew out a notepad. The cover was worn out. He made a mental note to buy a new one. Chocolate and silver would do. He ripped off the marked page and handed it to James. James took a quick look. It was scribbles with small numbers and names, not much to read. It was his usual, new assignment.

  
"When do you need this?"

"By this week."

  
James folded the note into half and took it in his hands. When he held it out, it was gone. It was a fancy but simple trick. James once said he learned it few years ago and it always worked for ladies and Sirius retorted, “Adorable.”. He didn't really mean that, of course.

  
The coffee went cold and bitter. Sirius put down the cup and looked at James, a cup of coffee in his hand and over his shoulder. A guy was sitting at the back. It was a nice spot, having a clear view of entire diner. He came in behind two more than James, ordered a cup of tea and picked up a paper. He was pretending to be absorbed in crosswords, but Sirius knew he hadn't took a sip of his drink or written a single letter into the puzzle.

  
"How are you?" asked Sirius.

  
"Alright, I guess." James shrugged. "It hurts days like this, but fine."

  
"Good." said Sirius. "We’ve got company."

  
“My two o'clock,” Sirius added. James turned around, asking for a refill his coffee. The waitress came, took the empty dishes and refilled the cup.

  
"Saw him," said James, after she left. "I don't know him. Are you sure he didn't follow you?"

  
"No, he's yours."

  
"Shoot," James swore. "Do you know how many tubes I took on the way here?"

  
"Any guesses?”

  
"Four, but none of them are paranoid enough to put a tail on me."

  
"In other words, you have no idea."

  
"I can find out."

  
"You do that."

  
Sirius stood up. He put on his coat, took the money out and put it under pepper castor with a check. Glancing, the tail was rolling his eyes, leaning over the table, and thinking the next move, whether they leave together or James stays - if so, who should he follow next?

  
Sirius picked up an umbrella. "Let’s go."

  
James emptied his coffee and rose up, rather reluctantly. The server standing at the counter said good-bye. Sirius opened the door; James passed him and went out first. The rain was in between, but still. Sirius wished it would stop until he got to the Yard. He shook off raindrops from the umbrella.

  
"It’s a shame." said James as he put his leather gloves on. He didn't bring anything to avoid the rain, obviously. "I really wanted to try breakfast here."

  
"Well, that's your fault." answered Sirius. Then, James leaned on, just close enough to –

  
Sirius could know what kind of coffee James had. It was black with lots sugar, not really his taste of coffee. James' mouth was slightly opened and Sirius noticed as he lightly grabbed his neck to shoulder, that James was, in fact, smiling. Odd, but he understood. The guy behind the glass door, near the counter, seemed obviously confused now. He wasn't professional, after all. Then it wouldn't be hard to ditch him whoever he followed. Sirius took a step back.

  
"Just for the future reference, next time, run." said Sirius, almost growled.

 

James was still close, too close. If Sirius breathed out, it would cloud his glasses. But neither of them had intentions to back off. James' hands slid down from Sirius’ shoulder to forearm.

  
"Or, take a cab."

  
"Yes. Yes." said James.

 

The leather felt cold against bare hands. It was spinning around the wrist for a little bit, and the next moment, James snatched the umbrella from him.

  
"I'll charge you for the cab."

  
James put the umbrella and walked into the rain. Sirius watched him go and went to his car.

 


	3. Chapter 3

   
  
Sirius tipped his head and exhaled lightly as the smoke spread out through the air. Nicotine started to circle in his veins but it didn't make him feel any better. So instead of drawing and inhaling it again, he threw it out. The cigarette flew away, leaving small, light sparks. When it hit the ground, he took out his mobile.  
  
  
He drew a familiar pattern on screen and a string of numbers that weren’t listed as a known telephone number. He shortly faced the call button and he stared it for a while. He pushed the lock. The screen faded out and turned into black.  
  
  
Sirius put the phone back. He looked over the people in front, officers in uniform and casual detectives behind the yellow tapes. Vans from broadcasting companies were already here nearby and setting up the gear. Sirius was tired and hungry, haven't eaten anything for almost 24 hours. He wanted to have a warm cup of coffee, black, no sugar, and no cream. He couldn't quite remember whether that would be the fourth or fifth one but it definitely wouldn't be his first one today or the last one in this morning.  
  
  
So, He decided to go in. He surfed into the people, and when he reached the yellow tape, an officer threw his arms to block him. Sirius took his badge out, showing it to him. The officer nodded him and took a step back.  
  
  
"Why don't you making yourself useful," said Sirius, as crossing the line, "by taking him out, instead?" He gestured towards a man, probably a newbie detective, throwing up over the shrubs. "He's contaminating the scene."  
  
  
"DC Black." One of the detectives at the gate said, stepped closer.  
  
  
"DCI.” Sirius nodded. “What do we have?"  
  
  
"An anonymous call came in; there was a homicide and a body in here. Uniforms responded and saw the door was opened. They called in and found the victim in the living room."  
  
  
"Did you trace the call?"  
  
  
"It was from a burner phone, hard to trace."  
  
  
They went into the house along the road. The house was filled with people just as it was outside, but they were different people, mostly wearing gloves and badges. Sirius stopped for a moment in the lobby.  
  
  
The house was bigger than it looked like on the outside. Like any other houses for sale, there was only the necessary furniture and no other decoration nor paintings on the wall, no sign of people living. It was one of those perfect environments for crimes.  
  
  
"Did you identify the victim?" asked Sirius.  
  
  
DCI handed the wallet, bagged in the evidence bag. The victim was age 38, real estate agent, office in rich side of London. The address did not match with the house. Sirius gave it back to DCI.  
  
  
“Do we know why he was here?”  
   
  
“This place was for sale since last month. The victim was one of the real estate agents handling here.” DCI said, reading the notes.  
  
  
"You said the door was open?"  
  
   
"Yes. They said it was always locked except when they gave a tour for the possible clients but the spare key was hidden under the bushes by the door, so anyone who knew where the key was would have access to this house. This way, please.”  
  
  
DCI went into the living room. The body wasn’t clear to see with couches at first. He was lying under the couch by the fireplace. There were slanted trace of bloods on the white fabric couch and the table. The fire on the place was dim. Living room looked no different than the doorway. The forensics was taking pictures and evidence from the victim and the scene, and medical examiner was kneeling down and examining the body. Sirius stood the opposite side of him with the victim in-between.  
  
   
"Remus,"  
  
   
  
"You’ve been smoking."  
  
  
M.E said it without raising his head. No hellos? Sirius knew him well enough that it didn't mean for or about the victim like he did time to time. Sirius thought about the cigarette. He definitely should have smoked it for a while longer. And Sirius moved on and asked, "Cause of death?"  
  
   
"He bled to death, probably because of this."  
  
  
Sirius leaned in. Medical examiner moved the victim's face to the side and exposed the neck. The cut was deep and long; straight to the artery, neat and clean. Either the killer was lucky or it was professional hit.  
  
  
"Is it possible this was a suicide?"  
  
   
"I thought about that, but look at this."  
  
  
M.E pointed at the head this time. It was half-smashed and quite nasty. The blood pool on the floor was not just from the neck.  
  
  
"He could have hit his head when he fell down." Sirius nodded the fireplace and the table near the couch.  
   
  
"I checked. None of them is a match."  
  
  
"So, he or she smashed his head first, knocked him out, and cut his throat. Did you find the weapon?"  
  
  
"Not yet. Guess they brought it and took it with them. I think a knife, judging from the wound but I won’t know for sure until I examine the body at the morgue."  
  
  
"When’s the time of death?"  
  
  
"Around twelve hours ago. Between 10 P.M. Sunday to 2 A.M. Monday, but it could be longer if the fire was set before. That's all I can tell you here. I will know more when I get him back to the morgue.”  
  
  
"Okay." Sirius rose up. "Call me when you're done."  
  
  
Medical Examiner gave signs and two men came on, put the body into a big plastic bag and the cart. Sirius looked down the bloodbath after the body was gone. Sticky and blackish red blood was getting cold, contaminating the carpet. Blunt force trauma and a single knife wound in the neck. It was a same M.O as the last time. Considering the relation between the victims, it was probably from the same person, but they didn't leave the weapon behind this time.  
  
  
"Didn't you quit?"  
  
  
Sirius lost the train of the thoughts. He looked up. Remus was standing near the cart and finishing the documents.  
  
  
"I did." answered Sirius, rather dry. He guessed where this was going, and he didn’t like it  
  
  
"I thought you were doing well." said Remus.  
  
  
"I was,”  
  
  
Remus grimaced. "If you don't put an end on smoking-"  
  
  
"Smoking will." Sirius held his hands up. "I know."  
  
  
"Then you’d better act like you do." said Remus. Body cart was moving. Sirius took one step back and the victim made his way out to the crime scene.  
  
  
Interviews with the victim's colleagues and asking around neighbors didn't help the investigation at all. The victim didn't have any clients nor the colleagues had grudge against him and there was no visible change with his recent behavior. He was bright and cheerful, everyone liked him, and nobody would want to hurt him. But either way, Sirius handed the business card to them, asking to contact him whenever they think of something else useful to the case and asked them to come down the station for collecting fingerprints and DNAs. Sirius left the scene after the third interview, handing over the charges to DCI.  
  
  
The weather was still cold, though the sun was in the middle of the sky. Sirius walked toward his car across the scene. He was dead tired. He didn't care whether it's coffee or a cigarette that he could put his mouth on. He stood at the car, took out the key with the cell. He checked the phone. There was one unread text message.  
   
  
 _Hi._  
  
  
Sirius stood there for a while, with the driver’s seat open. James was sitting in the passenger seat. The car windows were all tinted black, bullet-proofed so no one could look the inside. It was professional advantage for him, but not this time.  
  
  
"Did you miss me?"  
  
  
James said casually, sipping coffee. It was a take-out and the lid was closed so Sirius couldn't possibly know what the content is but it was obviously coffee. It smelled like one and there was another one in the take out form. It would be perfect if there was a box of pastries in the back seat.  
  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?" asked Sirius.  
  
  
"I brought you a gift." James took the envelope off the gloves box. "So stop acting weird and get in the car."  
  
  
So he did. The door locked as it closed. Sirius started the car as James fastened the seatbelt. It was a wise choice. The owner and the driver of the car put up the gear and the vehicle didn't stopped at all until it hit the downtown.  
  
  
After circling round and round the complicated intersections and construction sites, Sirius finally stopped the car in an alley behind the park and skyscrapers. Sirius kept the engine on and opened the envelope James just handed. Inside of it, there were photos and documents, mainly surveillance photos and minor intelligence documents, Sirius had seen and known the half of it. It was mostly photos of the victims and crime scenes, information of the victims and perpetrators, and the links between them. The other half he didn't know and the most important things were the footnotes James added and was telling as Sirius was going through the files. Sirius stopped on the fifth page. It was about the victim he just saw.  
  
  
"Was it Greyback?"  
  
  
"He cleaned up."  
  
  
"What about the head?"  
  
  
"That was Bellatrix. She’s a one scary lady."  
  
  
"Was this victim related to the last one?"  
  
  
"He helped them get into the building." answered James. "He wanted a 10 percent of the profit, they were willing to give him, but he got greedy, saying going to the cops unless. And you know they are not good at negotiation.”  
  
  
“When was it?”  
  
  
“Last Saturday. They set up the fire so your examiner would have trouble with setting the timeline. The photos and the recordings are in there too."  
  
  
James pointed out the pages, and he watched the clock, third time after getting into the car. Sirius went on to the next page, but can’t help asking. "Do you have somewhere else to go?"  
  
  
"He called a meeting today."  
  
  
James blurted out of nowhere so Sirius had to beg himself. The pages, documents were no longer matter.  
  
  
"What?"  
  
  
"He called the meeting."  
  
  
Sirius didn’t ask who he is or what the meeting is. There was no time to waste for that. He went straight to the point. "When is this meeting?"  
  
  
"Tomorrow, 10p.m."  
  
  
“The place?"  
  
  
James gave a nam of their old hideout. Sirius noted. He knew what kind of the place is like in that time of the day. He wouldn’t go to the place like that or let James to go. It was dangerous.  
  
  
"Are you sure this is not a set-up?" asked Sirius. James raised the eyebrows. Sirius went on.  
  
  
"It could be a trap. Who told you this?"  
  
  
"From Himself."  
  
  
"You saw him?"  
  
  
"I followed Malfoy and Lestrange, Mrs. Lestrange, this morning. HE showed up, saying there will be gathering tomorrow, no one will be excuse from it. And Malfoy called me later."  
  
  
"Do you know why?"  
  
  
"He didn't say."  
  
  
"Okay. I will report to the ups and call for back-ups."  
  
  
"You should bring up an army. ‘Cause there will be all."  
  
  
James smiled, weakly. He was clearly not paying attention to the other man or the conversation. James was looking outside. He checked the time again and said, "I should go. I stayed out for too long."  
  
  
"James."  
  
  
Sirius called out before James shut the door. James appeared between the doors.  
  
  
"What?" James said, slightly annoyed.  
  
  
"Be careful."  
  
  
James stopped. Sirius wouldn’t repeat that, so James grinned.  
  
  
"I always do."  
  
  
And he shut the door. Sirius watched James, putting his hands in the jacket, like nothing happened, and walked into the park across the street, until he no longer was seen. Sirius took the coffee to take a sip but had to put it back down. It was too cold to drink. He put the hands on the handle and took the car out to the street and noticed the white box in the back. It was a box of pastries. Sirius let out a laugh.  
  
   
  
 


	4. Chapter 4

 

They picked the warehouse in the industrial area, not far from downtown. He could look upon flurry skyline of the city but the lights felt so far away. Out of all of them, Voldemort chose the darkest place in the broad, complicated maze. The street lights were broken or blinking where the criminals gathered when twilight hits, and there were not enough policemen to catch them and secure the area.

  
However, that was not the case tonight. Bright headlights from the police cars were everywhere. The darkness of the maze had disappeared. They didn't ring the sirens but suppressed noises, holding their breaths and waiting for the darkness to crawl out and preparing to hit first. Sirius put on a bullet-proof vest. The snipers were all set and the strike team was ready. Everyone walked towards the storage facility in front of them. It was blended with the others but the windows were too dirty to look inside. The steel gate was locked tight, and there were no other exit or entrance.

  
Nobody could go in or out.

  
Voldemort went into the very same storage building a while ago and hadn’t come out, according to the surveillance report. The house looked empty through the heat detector, but he was with someone. It was hard to guess who the person was; a hostage? Or is it another follower of his? But they had arrested all of his followers- the Death-eaters. Maybe it was someone else who Sirius or James didn't know about.

  
James. Sirius thought. Yesterday afternoon was the last time they talked and Sirius hadn't heard him from since. He didn't have time to check whether James was on the arrest list. A uniform informed him the strike team was ready. Sirius nodded. He charged the gun and headed to the warehouse. The plan was to break into the house and arrest him and the other person, quick and bloodless. The entrance door broke down with three pounds. Sirius went inside with the team. They shouted names and the light came through.

  
He, Tom Marvolo Riddle, Lord Voldemort was standing in the middle of it. He had no sign of panic despite the blinding lights and pointed guns. Rather, he was calm as he was expecting all of those. But the other guy, he was sitting on a chair in front of Voldemort. He tried to raise his arm to cover his face but a gun, pointed directly to him, made it impossible.

  
It took a few seconds to recognize him.

  
His face was messed up. His eyes were swollen pretty badly, probably from beatings and his cheeks were bleeding. That wasn’t the worst of it. His clothes were stained with dusts and bloods. Thanks to the light he brought in, Sirius could see the scratches through his tore clothes. It was like some kind of weird Déjà Vu.

  
He blinked a few and their eyes met. Sirius fixed his eyes to him as he found out who he is. His lips were moving but Sirius wanted to tell him not to.

  
"I thought you'd never come."

  
It was James. The voice was too subtle that it almost sounded like he was amusing. Sirius ordered the man behind him to stay back. He took a step to get a clear shot. In his place, he could barely see James. Voldemort, unlike Sirius expected, did not back down. Instead, he took a shot at the floor. A slug rolled on to Sirius’ feet.

  
"Step back."

  
Or else I will shoot him. Voldemort shot his gun once again until Sirius eventually went one more step. Sirius adjusted his gun. He could see both of their faces and arms but James was blocking the target. It wasn’t enough to get the shot.

  
"Tom Marvolo Riddle, you are under arrest," Sirius shouted. It was no small; the words hit the wall and echoed back to him. "Put the gun down, and release-"

  
Sirius took a glance of James again; the eyes weren't blinking fast enough, bloody, untidy hair with a cold metal hold on to it.

  
"- the hostage. There are cops everywhere. Your followers are all under arrest. You are nowhere else to go and you wouldn't get out of here. And we don't have to catch you alive."

  
"Yes, but."

  
Voldemort held James’ shoulder and took the gun into his head closer. James frowned with a pain.

  
"Is _he_?"

  
Sirius had fixed his eyes on James all along. He tried so hard to focus on the gun, the hand holding the gun, and the person holding the gun but he failed miserably. Sirius wanted to ask James if he is okay, tell him he would rescue him and everything will be okay. But Sirius suppressed it all. James wasn’t like any other hostages after all.

  
James mouthed. _Shoot Him_. Sirius almost shook his head. The gun was too steady to do that and had never been an inch away from his head even before they came in. If Sirius shot him or ordered to shoot, Voldemort would pull the trigger and James’ head will be blown. Sirius would take his- James’ blood. Sirius returned the focus on the target.

  
"Forget it. You can't get out of here."

  
"Yes, I should have killed him myself, but Malfoy screwed up."

  
"What the hell are you-?"

  
"The Contact." said James. "You sent me there."

  
"Of course I did. What, did you think you were that special enough to go out there?" said Voldemort. Sirius stepped forward fast, twice at a time. James was distracting Him.

  
"I put a tail on you for months. I knew you were going out with that. You two look nice on black and white, I have to say."

  
"Put the gun down."

  
Now, Sirius had a clear shot. Voldemort raised his head and saw Sirius and the guns behind him. He twisted his pale, thin lips.

  
"Turn yourself in, Riddle. You're done."

  
"Not just yet." Voldemort pulled James back. Sirius shouted, going after. "I said, put the gun down!"

  
"Say good bye to your boyfriend."

  
And the shots were fired.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

"It's raining again," The waiter said, as he poured another cup of coffee.

 

It had been four days.

  
He lost an umbrella yesterday, again. It was the third time this month. The first one he lost in the tube, the next was in the bus, and he couldn't even remember what happened to the third one. He bought a new one for the fourth time this week – the one making a small pool of rain drops inside the booth. Waiter complained about the weather for awhile and he mindlessly agreed. If this weather kept going, he would be a big shot in the London umbrella industry.

  
The waiter left him shortly after. He savored the drink slowly. It was exact same as it was last time. It was still too strong for his taste though. He put a spoonful of sugar and stirred it. He took a sip, and it was better. He covered the cup with both hands to warm up.

  
He waited.

  
The door opened and closed. The staffs said hello. He took off the raindrops from the head and shoulder and rearranged his umbrella before he came straight to the booth.

  
"Did you eat?" asked Sirius.

  
James shook his head. Sirius sat down on the other side, waved his hands, and made orders. James picked a Wealthy Rarebit from the breakfast menu, and Sirius just asked for a coffee and the bacon and eggs. The waiter took the orders and left.

  
"How is it?” asked Sirius.

  
"Still hurts," James answered frankly. He went to the hospital this time. Doctors stitched him up many places and put him into a bed for a whole month. Most of the wounds, including the scratches on his face, were gone but bruises on the body hurt every time he moved.

  
"How did the trial go?" asked James.

  
"Lord Voldemort and his followers will be in jail for very long time."

  
"It's over, then."

  
"Yes." said Sirius.

  
Soon after, the food was served. Waiter put the dishes on the table. He filled the cups and asked whether they need anything else.

  
"No, thank you." James replied.

  
  
"It's all fine now."  
 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is welcomed!


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